


"What happens in Arthur's bedroom..."

by Adarog (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-21
Updated: 2009-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/Adarog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's chest is rising and falling even faster than Merlin's; there's a little sheen of sweat at his temples and over his upper lip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"What happens in Arthur's bedroom..."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by episode 2x01, "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan", but non-spoilery and context-free.

"Not so fast," Merlin whispers. He doesn't have to shout; he doesn't have to raise his voice. Arthur obeys, instantly. Always. He pauses, his parted lips just inches from Merlin's upcurved cock.

By the light of the single candle, Merlin contemplates this sight: His master, his prince, on his knees, naked to the waist, waiting to suck him off. Obedient. Eager. Arthur's chest is rising and falling even faster than Merlin's; there's a little sheen of sweat at his temples and over his upper lip.

Merlin is perched on the edge of Arthur's bed, his trews undone, his prick thrusting out, but he's still dressed. That's part of the fun, after all--a little reminder to Arthur who's in charge.

"All right. But slowly." His own lips part with excitement as Arthur eases forward and closes the head of his prick in his mouth. The prince sucks gently, and Merlin sighs, as much at how pretty those full lips are, pursed around his flesh, as at how good that sucking feels. The prince of Camelot is an *excellent* cocksucker.

"More," Merlin says, and Arthur leans into him, sliding his lips further down the shaft. Merlin's eyes flutter closed for a moment; he forces them open because he wants, he needs to watch. Arthur glances up at him, blue eyes hopeful, and when Merlin smiles and cups Arthur's cheek, the prince's eyes close, content.

Merlin lets him enjoy that contentment for a little while. A little while, but not too long, before Merlin's hand slides round to the back of Arthur's neck and his long fingers grip hard, holding Arthur still so that Merlin can fuck his mouth. Arthur's jaw relaxes, his face goes slack with fear and need, as Merlin pulls him in, thrusts forward, drags him away. He won't quite go so rough that Arthur gags. Not yet. But he thinks about it sometimes. He is thinking about it now.

He relaxes his grip, cradles the back of Arthur's head instead, winding his fingers into thick soft golden hair and kneading the base of Arthur's skull. The prince relaxes and resumes sucking, a slow steady rhythm that he knows Merlin likes. Merlin got himself off in a spare moment, earlier, wanting to prolong this, to last as long as he can.

He's barely out of boyhood, though, and close to arousal much of the time like any other young man. When the prince pulls back, sucks hard on the head of his prick, and makes that little swirl with his tongue, Merlin gasps, yanked to the edge of the precipice. Before he can quite lose control, he pushes Arthur away and, taking himself in hand, spurts hard and long over Arthur's naked chest.

Arthur waits, sitting on his heels, licking his lips mournfully as Merlin recovers. Only when Merlin has gotten his breath back and wiped himself down does he reach for Arthur. One hand on his shoulder, mouth sealed to mouth, he gets a grip on Arthur's prick through his leggings and gives a stroke with a twist. Arthur whimpers into the kiss as he spills himself, soaking his leggings.

Merlin doesn't let go until the other man begins to melt in his grasp. Then he nods, smiling. "Do you feel good now?"

"Yes, Merlin."

"So do I." He pats Arthur's cheek. "I don't want you to clean up. Go to sleep like that. And don't take off your leggings, either. I'll make sure you're good and cleaned up in the morning."

"Yes, Merlin."

Merlin gets up and leaves the bedroom, smelling of sex and candle wax. He stretches out, arms behind his head, on the little bed in his own cool quiet nook in the antechamber. Arthur may be the crown prince of Camelot, in charge everywhere else all day, but by night, in Arthur's bedroom, things are different. And Merlin is content.


End file.
